What We Were Born To Do
by UnartisticLicense
Summary: AU: James escaped the Dutchman.  He's returned to his former life as a commodore. It's his nature and he cannot deny it. He rescues a flighty woman from a pirate ship and vows to help her rebuild her life, but does she need it? Rated:violence and nudity.


-Hello, hello! Welcome to my first fic. First, a little bit about the setting. This fic features James Norrington. I will consider it sort of an AU. I first had the idea after CotBP, but there have since been other movies that I did enjoy, and so we are just going to pretend that, instead of dying on the Dutchman he managed to escape with the others. Takes place after AWE. He has since regained his position as Commodore and.. well.. the rest you can read. It will get all romancey and stuff, but there will be plenty of action and adventure as well. There's a warning of some nudity, sexual assault and death here in the first chapter. Please keep all criticism constructive! Telling me it sucks will only serve to devalue your opinions in my eyes. Enjoy!-

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><p>For a time, the Commodore had doubts that he would ever return to his former position. With all he had gone through in the recent years it was hard to imagine he could just return to the life he once had. All the joy seemed to have been sucked from his life, but he found himself again commanding a ship and working to uphold the law... with a new perspective of course. It had scarcely been a month since Beckett's death and his own return to Port Royal, but the memories were already beginning to fade. From the moment he set foot on his own ship once again and felt the salty winds hit his face he knew he was back home and that he would never go wanting for anything else again. His life back on shore was filled with some of the greatest comforts the world could offer, but they felt empty and unfulfilling. The soft bed, warm fires, delicious food and exquisite parties, as nice as they were, could not stir his heart as the lady ocean did now. Perhaps the life of a pirate had rubbed off on him a little bit more than he wanted to admit.<p>

Scarcely a month back and he already had a small taste of the thrill of battle, although the ship they faced posed little challenge. The lot of them were right scoundrels and the uniformed gentleman both pitied and envied their position. They'd all been born into a world they could never deny or turn from completely. As much as Norrington himself had grown to have a slight distaste for certain people in charge and some of the rules and laws of the governing body, he was not ready to wholly give up his comfortable life within it. He believed it all brought about far more good than bad. And these men... they had no choice but to pillage and plunder with the hopes of striking gold in order to afford a few of life's base pleasures. He fought against them, and yet needed them to exist for his own life to continue this way. Without people like the commodore to war against, pirates may have just killed themselves off long ago with their love and lust for a good fight. They needed each other in some strange way.

As much as he understood this, he also reasoned that the people they took from were human too. Spilled blood was spilled blood. Why should a life end simply because they had been born with good fortune? If that was to be a rule, well, he should have been dead long before.

His crew busied themselves around him, herding the last of the pirates together and binding them in cuffs, as he strode casually toward the other ship. He trusted them to round up the last few stragglers while he personally looked over the cargo holds in the other ship. It certainly wasn't required of him, but he held a certain amount of curiosity at this point. Taking treasure from a theif, could it hold just a little bit too much of a thrill for him?

The moment his boot hit the other deck memories came rushing back. The weathered and cracking boards beneath him, the sound of the sails snapping quietly in a stiff breeze, even the smell of sweat and rum and sea brought him back to places he was not sure he wanted to be. The frown on his face was almost imperceptible as he hurried past the ghosts hanging in the air. He headed for the lower decks where he was sure to find something of interest to take his mind away from such things.

The light down here grew dim and the smells grew worse. Slime slipped beneath his boot as he ducked beneath a low beam before finding himself in the first hold of the boat. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he surveyed the room. Hammocks swung gently with the rocking of the waves, and shadows of stacked crates were back lit by the occasional lantern. Venturing a look into one or two he only found stacks of hard tack and bottles of some unidentifiable substance. He moved from here to a rather sparse cannon room. No wonder they had put up little of a fight, there was so little to fight with. Three cannons on each side, no telling how many were actually in working order. It was hard to imagine how they managed to steal enough to survive on at all.

Suddenly, a muffled cry sounded from somewhere beyond the other end of the room. It was out of place. Anyone down here should have joined the fight above or have been cleared out by his men. Palming his pistol he made his way across the room in soft, quick steps. Beyond was space full of metal and bars, a makeshift brig he reasoned. Peering around the frame he risked a quick look, but the inhabitants within were quite preoccupied.

The two figures writhed in the dim light and another cry cut through the stillness. There was no mistaking that it was a woman's voice. Unafraid of detection, James stepped into the room and was instantly appalled at what he saw. This was the side of pirates he could never embrace or even tolerate. This was why he would have to fight against them... if only to save a few from what he saw now.

He followed the line of a rope hung from a beam in the ceiling, it jerked as it's victim struggled against the knots. The face below was blindfolded and gagged, but those rags were not enough to hide the grimaced expression or the bruise on her cheek. Blood trickled, fresh, from her nose and her dress, once fine brocade, was torn and soiled. The bodice was ripped open from sternum to navel and a dirty hand grabbed at an exposed breast, the other pushing aside layers of skirt below.

It made James sick to his stomach.

It took only two short strides to close the distance between them and in one fluid movement a shot rang out and the smell of powder and blood mixed with the rest of the odors of the small cell. There was no remorse. In fact, the commodore believed he deserved much worse, but his blood was boiling and he would not let the offender live for another moment, even if there was promise of more severe punishment.

The sudden gun shot and commotion sent the small woman squirming against her bonds more fervently than before. Again her muffled voice echoed against the prison bars. Norrington rushed to her side and wrapped an arm securely around her waist, lifting her just enough to relieve the pressure of hanging by her hands. He soothed her with a few kind words. "Shhhh... It's alright, I mean you no harm."

In another moment his knife was sawing against the rope above. He was loathe to lower her to the filth on the floor, but he needed to be sure she was in no more immediate danger. Her cries had subsided into whimpers as his hands worked to unknot the gag in her mouth. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. It must have been a while since she'd had something to drink. The blindfold was easily slipped over her head and he found a pair of fierce, stormy grey eyes staring up at him. While their was relief in her gaze, his own face held a mixture of emotion. Brow knit in uneasiness, nostrils still flaring in anger, mouth tight as if he struggled not to say something he wished to. But there was a softness in his hazel eyes. Tearing from her gaze he made quick work of the remaining knots at her wrists, finally freeing her hands, although her movements to cover herself were weak and lethargic.

Realizing she must have been uncomfortable exposed in such a way he removed his own jacket and tucked it around her shoulders. "I've got a doctor on board my ship." He knew any fixing anyone could do would be limited to the physical, but it was a start. "I'll see to it that you get whatever you need." In a sudden, affectionate gesture he wiped the blood from her cheek, his lips turned down in a small, thoughtful frown. There was a hundred questions running through his mind. Who was she? How had she come to be here? He hoisted her up in his arms and made his way back up to the top deck. She seemed to weigh little more than the fabric of her dress. As they stepped up into the high sun he wondered how long it had been since she had seen daylight, or had fresh air. The questions, however, would have to wait.


End file.
